


but remember that pain has a motive

by Zyrocs



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Ancient Greece, Angst, I’m sorry, M/M, i guess? idk, im bad at tagging, little bit of a song fic, no beta we die like achilles(men), somewhat inspired by the gang of youths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27900316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyrocs/pseuds/Zyrocs
Summary: it was as if he was fallingfalling through the skyfalling
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus of Opus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Apollo/Hector (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hades/Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hera/Zeus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i was sad and in an overworking mood  
> also, i love achilles come down and am listening to it constantly   
> the lowercase letters are on purpose.  
> so basically, i’m a bitch.  
> also, i might continue, but eh.   
> also, they have free passage anywhere in the underworld  
> it’s part of the curse  
> my longest fanfic, by the way.  
> the first two is achilles, the rest are patroclus, with the exception of the last, which is a mix.  
> also, forgive my mythos mistakes, i read percy jackson, and even though, yes, don’t worry, i read the original greek myths, I’m a bit rusty.  
> also, i wrote this here, not on a google doc.

he was falling

falling through the sky

he was grasping at straws, stars, anything to keep him aloft.

but it was all in vain

his darling patroclus, dead. killed by apollo and hector. turned mad and speared.

his love, gone.

it was all gone. himself, troy, greece.

countless places, gone. 

he was underwater, he couldn’t breathe.

until he gasped.

* * *

he wandered aimlessly through the underworld, cursed by apollo. cursed to never see his friends, family, love.

he called out for his mother, but to no avail.

he was alone, in this world. it seemed, he finally understood, life is short, yet death is eternal.

oh, how he wished he could see them one last time, look upon them, but alas. he was cursed the moment he was shot by the damned arrow.

he ached for a chance to make it right. for a chance to be able to stop all deaths. a chance, maybe, to see everyone he loved breathe once more.

oh, to be alive. to breathe, love, laugh, grieve, to live.

* * *

he awoke

he wandered aimlessly through the underworld. he looked for who he was, who the man in his head was.

he only remembered fragments.

he remembered wandering through bodies, being speared. 

looking upon the face of thanatos, he realized 

he was dead. the fragments of the life he remembered, never to be put together again.

however, he remembered one clear thing.

a man, laughing. he laughed, and he knew. 

he knew this man was who he loved.

* * *

he started his long journey, looking for the man. first, he decided, he may as well search the fields, get the hardest out of the way.

he suspected that was how he was when he was alive, as well.

he searched, wandered. he found no one. he saw shades looking at him, reaching to him.

 _help me,_ they whispered, _save me._

he shook it off, feeling guilty, and kept walking.

* * *

he then searched punishment

listening to screams, he shuddered, and kept walking.

looking at a man waist deep in water, reaching for food, and he picked a fruit of the tree offering it to the man.

the man recoiled, not trusting of kind strangers.

he shrugged, and ate the fruit himself.

asking a man who was pushing a rock, who he was, the man screamed and ran, looking behind him.

hearing the screeching laughter of the erinyes, he ran.

he did not find the man, yet the worst was to come.

* * *

the pit.

the ultimate punishment. the start and end. the home of chaos and nyx. the birthplace of monsters.

if the man was here, he was a bad person. 

if not, he was in elysium, alive, or a wanderer.

he wandered. he looked for him, running into monsters. they tried to kill him, but they just fell right through him.

he went to the river of fire. he wasn’t there.

was he in elysium?

or was he alive? living? had a family?

he knew it was selfish

but he wished he was here

here with him

* * *

in elysium, he met many greeks, and even some trojans. he met plato, pythagoras, and more. each time, he was let down.

until he met hector

when he found him, he found him with apollo

hector noticing him asked him what he wanted.

he called him a strange name. _patroclus,_ he said, _what do you ask of me?_

he remembered

he remembered another thing

the name of the man he was looking for

achilles.

patroclus asked him where achilles was, and hector _laughed._

he threw back his head and laughed.

 _i do not know where that bastard went,_ he said, _ask another thing of me._

he walked away, searching for his lover.

* * *

 _if he is not here,_ patroclus thought, he is in the living world.

when he returned, he was shocked.

 _the byzantines,_ they said, _they will last forever._

when he asked of greece and troy, he was told that it had fell centuries ago, the roman empire rose up, split in half, and byzantine was now.

 _what is troy?_ they asked, _can I go?_

stunned, he turned around and kept walking.

* * *

he was back to the start, he supposed, and he wasn’t able to find him. suddenly, a barrage of memories hit him

he remembered laughing with achilles, helping achilles train, trying and failing to convince him to help with the trojans.

putting on his armor, impersonating him, rallying the troops. dying.

he cried. he cried for a love lost, a life lost, a family lost

all this time, he wished for his memories, and when mnemosyne blessed him with his memory, he thought it was a curse after all.

all this time, he was searching for closure, a love, life after death. he was searching for achilles, because he was all his romantic love, he held his memories, and he was dead

achilles was dead

achilles was dead because of him.

he learnt that, after his death, achilles was willing to sacrifice his humanity, his life, his very essence, for him.

he killed hector, and paraded his body throughout the city.

he was killed by apollo’s arrow, parading his chosen’s body around the city.

he was dead, dead for him.

why.

why did he do that, just for him.

in doing so, he damned himself to chaos.

little more than an animal, his soul became one with chaos, the start and end.

achilles, he supposed, was more lovesick than he thought.

the memories kept coming. they kept hitting him, even as he begged it to stop. 

love, he supposed, had no place in a war, even if it had started it.

* * *

he ventured to the river Lethe. he supposed he would not throw away his soul, and be reborn to spread achilles’ legacy.

little did he know, achilles was right there, waiting at the banks, as he had been cursed to do so.

he wanted the memories to stop, so he wandered to the river lethe.

they could not see each other, as achilles’ back was turned, but as achilles back was turned, patroclus’ drank.

he put it in his mouth, but an instinct told him to wait to swallow.

as achilles turned around, he froze.

he called out for him

_patroclus?_

he smiled, swallowed, and whispered two words.

_i’m sorry._


	2. UPDATE

HAVE ADDED NEW CHAPTER FOR IT TO SHOW UP IN LISTINGS. IS COMPLETE.

**Author's Note:**

> how the most dangerous thing is to love


End file.
